Rating: M | Multi-Chapter | Paced Publishing
✿ Another big chapter! Enjoy! :)
Chapter Twenty-Five
"So, let me get this straight," Claire said to Jim in a slightly impatient voice. She was absentmindedly rocking four-day-old Ellie back and forth as she stood by the carved stone counter of their kitchen. "He lives on the East Coast, but wants to meet you at your mom's in California?"
Jim sighed, adding strips of venison to the pan that he was working over the fire. "Yeah."
"Jim, that sounds…"
"Like a trap, I know," he said, finishing his mate's thought. He wasn't happy about the situation either, but… "But I trust Strickler, and Strickler trusts this guy. We won't be gone long."
Claire frowned, looking down at the sleeping baby in her arms. "I think it's too early."
"I think so too," Jim agreed, his eyes also falling to the baby in his wife's arms. She was so small, and while she was not exactly weak, she wasn't the strongest either. Granted, he hadn't really been around many babies in his life — human, troll, or otherwise — so all he had to go on was instinct, and his instincts were screaming at him to keep them home and safe. "But I have to meet him, and I'm not going to risk Ellie by making you and her stay behind."
"I wonder what it is that makes troll babies so dependent on both parents?" Claire murmured quietly, studying her daughter closely. "Do you think it has something to do with magic?"
"Probably," Jim replied, shuffling the pan as the meat began to sizzle. "Our souls are so intermingled… maybe she needs the time to anchor the magic of her soul into ours… or the other way around. Nomura didn't go into detail, and I was too panicked to ask."
"Can't he wait?" Claire asked desperately. "He said that he didn't know where Usurna was, so what's the hurry?"
"Apparently, he said he's waited enough," Jim explained, reiterating the phone conversation that he'd had with Strickler only an hour before. His contact was nervous, worried that his information was putting him at risk — which, technically, it was. If an enemy discovered that this guy knew something as important as he said it was, and he was planning on snitching to the Trollhunter, he was as good as dead. "And if he has information on whoever or whatever is behind all of this — including Usurna — then we have to know what he knows."
"But we'd be leaving New Trollmarket undefended," she worried, and Jim noted that the more anxious she became, the closer she hugged Ellie.
"Merlin is here," he replied, laughing a little bit. "He's a lazy jerk, but he is an all-powerful sorcerer. He can defend the Market for a few hours, and if anything does go wrong, we're one portal away from being back."
"…what about your mom?"
Jim sighed again, frowning. Instead of answering right away, he threw some chopped root vegetables into the pan with the meat, using the juice and fat from the meat to sauté them. His mother hadn't called, and they hadn't called her; truthfully, he was still half furious with her, though he understood where her misplaced authoritative concern originated from. He couldn't exactly tell her that her doctoring was actually more of a danger in this case. This was the same woman who hadn't spoken to him for two whole months when he refused to tell her why he'd been found unconscious in the woods — she was stubborn and could hold a grudge like no one's business. "Just… don't let her, or anyone, try to hold Ellie."
Claire snorted an incredulous laugh. "Don't worry about that — they'll have to find a way to detach her from my chest first."
Jim chuckled, shaking his head. Ellie nursed at least every other hour, and even if she wasn't actively eating, she wanted to be attached to her mother; he was afraid that those hectic first few hours after her birth had traumatized her somehow. Even when he held her, she clung to him, mouthing whatever part of his skin that she was resting against. When they passed her between them, even if she had been sleeping, she would immediately jerk awake and scream until she was attached to one of them again. Needless to say, they were both worried, and exhausted, and would much rather cocoon themselves in their cave for a month longer than portal back across the country to have a meeting with a man they didn't know about a subject that could destroy everything.
"Mom's probably going to be giving me the silent treatment, anyway," Jim admitted, both angered and saddened by the thought. Still, he knew that she would accept his cooking under any circumstance, so he made sure that the meal he was trying to prepare — however rustic — didn't burn.
"I don't get why she's having such a hard time with this," Claire said, finally ceasing her rocking and coming over to Jim's side. She moved to sit on the floor in front of the fire, next to him, and he encircled one arm around her waist to help guide her down, watching her pained expression in concern. Ellie wasn't the only one he was worried about leaving home too early — Claire was still in pain from the birth; as her body readjusted and healed itself, she still had the occasional contraction and cramping, which would sneak up on her randomly. While she hadn't torn, she was still bleeding, weak, and shaky, and Jim did not want her leaving their home at all, but it was a moot point. He had to go, and Ellie needed both of her parents with her, which meant that she and Claire were more or less forced to go along with him.
"She's a doctor," Jim said simply, shrugging and leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his wife's forehead. She was chilled and clammy, and he cursed the timing of all of this. "…and it's partially my fault too."
"You did great!" Claire protested, nuzzling his neck lovingly. "What else did she expect us to—"
"No, I…" Jim shook his head, struggling for words as he kept half his thoughts and actions on the meal he was preparing. "I thought we had a while more… I hadn't told Mom about what was going to happen when you went into labor yet, so she probably just thinks that I was being stupid and irresponsible. A lot of doctors — her included — don't look highly on people who take the holistic approach to healthcare. She thinks it's hippie stuff."
"She did say something like that," Claire replied with a thoughtful hum in her voice. "I guess I can see her point, but… she should have trusted me when I said we were fine. Maybe Ellie would be calmer, if she hadn't…"
"Being nearly caught up in an explosion might have had something to do with that too," Jim said with a dark chuckle. He gave the pan one more shake over the fire and then took it off, gently dumping the contents into an insulated traveling container. After snapping the lid on, he put the container in his messenger bag and pulled out the magic charm that Merlin had given them when they had first settled New Trollmarket. It was identical to the ones that Barbara and Strickler carried, and would allow them to portal to either of them in the same way they could make portals to Jim or Claire. They had yet to use it, and Jim was never very confident when using magical objects, other than the Amulet; instead, he offered the gem to Claire, holding out an arm to trade her for the baby.
Claire smirked, shaking her head in amusement. "You'd rather hold a screaming baby than activate a magic charm?"
"Yes," Jim nodded seriously, and Claire laughed as she took the charm from him.
"Oh, Great Trollhunter, where would we be without your gallant bravery?" she said sarcastically. He laughed, reaching for Ellie, and Claire carefully transferred the baby to him. Even as slow and careful as they were moving, as soon as Ellie's face was no longer tucked in the warm crook of her mother's neck, she jerked awake with a choking gasp and began screaming, her little heart pounding.
"Shh, shh…" Jim hushed, rocking the infant back and forth and bouncing her lightly in his arms. He lifted her higher against his chest, resting her head on his shoulder. She gripped his shirt tightly in her little fists, crying and whining until she found a patch of skin that she could mouth on. The feeling was a little weird the first few times that she had done this, but he'd since gotten used to the warm and slimy sensation of the baby's mouth on his flesh. She'd gathered that Claire was the only one that she was getting food from, so she no longer tried to suck on his skin; however, no matter who was holding her, she wanted to be able to taste their skin, and would cry until she could. She would spit pacifiers out and had no tolerance for a bottle — they had thought maybe she would calm herself if she realized that she could be held by her father and fed at the same time, but she would have none of it. "Daddy's got you, Miss Ellie. Shh…"
Ellie whimpered against his shoulder, a weak purr beginning to vibrate in her chest. Claire and Jim shared a worried look, but they had no time to debate further. The longer they put this off, the more danger everyone was in; they needed to know what Strickler's contact knew and start planning what to do about it.
"On three," Claire murmured, gripping the charm tightly in her fist. Jim felt the magic building in the object slowly, and Claire placed her free hand against Ellie's back, rubbing gently. "One, two, thr—"
The magic burst before Claire finished her count, a bright blue light surrounding them. A rushing sensation shot through Jim's stomach briefly, like he'd missed a step going down the stairs, but then the light dissipated, seemingly sinking back into Claire's fist and the charm held within it. When the light cleared, they were kneeling in the middle of his mother's living room, Strickler standing across the room, speaking with Barbara and another troll.
Ellie screamed.
"Oh, Deya's grace!" the mystery troll exclaimed, jumping like a nervous cat. His brown eyes were wide, his facial structure nearly identical to a human's, save for one lone lower fang emerging from his mouth on the left side, not unlike Jim's own teeth, though Jim had both. His skin was a deep blue, soft-looking blonde hair crowing his head in a casually messy cut. His ears were elven, and sticking through his hair were two black horns on either side of his head, growing back and curled around like a ram's. His body was tall, thin, slightly muscular, and very human-like — also quite similar to Jim's — and he was wearing casual clothing that consisted of working jeans, a loose, white t-shirt, and hiking boots. Behind him, a long and thin tail with a tuft of blonde hair on the end was swishing and curling in the air as if to wave hello.
Jim felt a shock go through him that had nothing to do with magic or his panicking infant as he realized that he was looking at a Changeling who was very clearly born of the Huldufólk. He had never met another like him, and it was slightly disconcerting.
"Ellie, Ellie, shh…" Claire cooed, ignoring the others in the room as she dropped the charm in her hand and used both of her palms to rub the baby's back. Jim shook himself from his distraction and lifted his free hand to gently brush his daughter's cheek with his thumb. Her waving fists caught his thumb and then she was gumming it, whimpering and whining in the back of her throat, heavy tears cascading down her red cheeks.
"Oh, is she…?!" Barbara gasped, automatically taking two steps forward, and then freezing in place as Jim snarled, a deep warning growl rattling in his chest.
"It's too early for her to be out of our nest," Claire explained, her voice stiff and her expression slightly annoyed. She wouldn't turn to meet Barbara's concerned gaze. "But, obviously, we had no choice. So, could we please get this over with quickly?"
"You didn't say anything about the delay having anything to do with a new whelp!" the Huldrekall exclaimed to Strickler, nervously backing away from Jim and Claire.
"You said you wanted to pass the information to the Trollhunter as soon as possible," Strickler replied simply, shrugging in a nonchalant way. "You wanted to meet him in person."
"Hah!" the man scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Fuck this. I'd rather deal with the devil than get near a mate guarding troll with a fresh whelp!"
"Look," Jim growled, standing to his feet. He was taller than the Huldrekall in front of him by half a head, and he glared harshly at the nervous troll. "Obviously, we wouldn't be here if this wasn't important — and yeah, this is making my instincts go crazy — but I am here, and I'm willing to listen to what you have to say. So long as you don't come near my mate and whelp, I'm not going to lose it and turn you to rubble."
"Yeah, right," the Changeling shook his head, laughing nervously. "You just bared your teeth at your own mother! How am I supposed to trust that you—?!"
"Anson!" Strickler growled, smacking the blue troll around the back of his head. "If he's got enough control to string sentences together, no one here is in any danger. Just don't get close to Claire or the baby — speaking of which, Barbara: please step back, honey."
Barbara stood frozen for another few seconds, and Jim watched the silent debate behind her eyes, a slight snarl curling the corner of his mouth up. After a moment, she bowed her head slightly and took two steps back. The protective urge crashing over him and rushing through his tense muscles and pulsing veins eased slightly as his mother backed off and the two Changelings retained their distance, and the snarl melted from his face. Without turning his back to the others in the room, he offered Ellie back to Claire, and she took the baby gently. The infant started screaming again, and the others cringed at the sound, Anson taking another nervous step backward.
"Shh, mi amor," Claire crooned as she took Ellie into her arms and tucked her into the sling that she had strung over her shoulder and across her chest. Claire shifted the bundle of screaming baby around, hiding her from view. After a few seconds of moving around, Ellie's cries ceased and Jim heard her suckling. Claire must have maneuvered her clothing and the sling so that the baby could nurse without her being exposed. "There now, love. Mommy and Daddy are here."
"Claire, honey, why don't you and I go in the bedroom, so you can—" Barbara started, holding her hand out to Claire, palm up, her voice soft.
"No, no, Barb," Strickler interrupted before Jim or Claire could say anything, stepping up behind his girlfriend and placing his hands gently on her shoulders. "The first couple of weeks are very important for troll whelps, and they need to be in the presence of both parents at all times. The fact that she's out of her nest far too early is stressful enough on her; it'll be worse if she's separated from either Claire or Jim."
Barbara frowned, biting her lip. "It's only upstairs…"
"We're fine, Barbara," Claire assured her mother-in-law, beginning to rock her body side to side absentmindedly. "Thank you."
Suddenly, there was a heavy knocking at the door and everyone jumped in surprise, except for Barbara, who was looking a little guilty.
"I'll get it," she said, gently slipping out from her boyfriend's loose hands and walking toward the front door. Jim tensed, a growl building in his chest as he backed himself and Claire further back into the house, his body blocking her and the baby from view.
"What the hell?!" Anson muttered, shooting nervous looks between Strickler, Jim, and the front door. He backed himself into the corner, effectively hiding himself from whoever was at the door. "Does your human think this is some kind of dinner party?!"
Strickler shrugged weakly, his expression just as bewildered as he, too, moved to a corner of the room that couldn't be seen from the door. Jim shuffled back, guiding himself and Claire into the kitchen and slamming the dividers above the bar closed to hide their presence just as Barbara opened the door. Jim and Claire couldn't see who it was now, but they stayed quiet and listened.
"Oh, Javier, Ophelia! Please, come in," they heard Barbara say in a perfect hostess voice. Jim and Claire shared wide-eyed, nervous looks and Ellie whimpered against her mother's breast, reacting to her parents' distress.
"Shh…" Claire soothed the baby gently, rocking her back and forth.
In the other room, Strickler's relieved, but still worried voice carried out. "It's all right, Anson. Javier and Ophelia are friends of ours, and they know about our kind."
"It is very nice to meet you," Javier's smooth voice greeted, Ophelia's voice echoing the same sentiment in a slightly more subdued tone of voice.
"Er, yeah…" Anson replied, his tone clearly uncomfortable. "You too."
"Um…" Strickler gave a slightly nervous laugh after a moment of tense silence. "Is everything all right? We weren't expecting—"
"I…" Barbara interrupted, and Jim could hear the anxiousness in her voice and the pounding of her heart. "I invited them for dinner."
"Oh, Barbara…" Strickler sighed, his voice thick with defeat and disappointment. "This isn't—"
"Barbara said Jim and Claire were visiting," Ophelia interjected, and Jim shared a surprised look with his mate at the slightly hopeful tone in Ophelia's voice. "She said Claire had the… the baby early."
"Um…" Barbara said, quiet and nervous. "They just got here about 10 minutes ago. Jim, Claire! Come say hello, darlings!"
Jim growled low in his chest, angry and annoyed. Claire nuzzled his neck gently, hugging the baby closer to her chest. "What do you want to do?"
"Let's just get this over with, so we can get her home," Jim replied, sighing in defeat as he nuzzled the top of her head in return. "Keep Ellie tucked away, and don't let her see my face."
"Your…?" Claire started to question, but fell silent when he pulled the Glamour Mask from his messenger bag along with the food container he had brought. He pressed the mask to his face and in a flash of green light, he stood slightly disoriented in his shorter human form. "Jim, you don't have to—"
"It will make your parents more comfortable," Jim replied, taking one of Claire's hands in his. "My scent won't change, but Ellie won't recognize this face, so keep her tucked, okay?"
"Jim…" Claire protested once more, frowning and sending him a feeling of unease and guilt.
"Jim! Claire!"
Jim growled again, annoyed, but shook it off, gripping Claire's hand tightly in his own. He pulled her along behind him as they exited the kitchen hesitantly. The others had been looking in their direction, and they all blinked in surprise as they saw him in his human form. Strickler gave him a fond, yet sad smile, and Jim had to look away from his mother, her gaze longing as she looked upon the form she was most familiar with. Javier and Ophelia stood next to Barbara, their expressions surprised; Javier's expression turned ecstatic as he laid eyes on his daughter, whom he hadn't seen in months.
"Oh, my little princess!" Javier gushed, letting go of his wife's hand and taking an excited step forward, his arms outstretched. The two Changelings in the room cringed at the movement, and Jim tensed, his lip curling up in an involuntary snarl. The look wasn't as intimidating on his human face, but his father-in-law must have caught on to the tension in the room because he paused, his smile fading a little. After a moment, he nodded, letting his arms drop and stepped back to his wife's side. His smile, however, only lessened a little bit, and he continued to address his daughter as he normally would have. "Mi amor, how are you? How is the little one?"
Jim felt Claire relax behind him, her fingers tightening briefly around his. "Hi, Papa. We're… okay."
"They should still be home," Jim said in a quiet voice, trying to maintain his composure. There were too many people surrounding them, and his protective instincts were raging just beneath the surface.
"Are you sick?" Ophelia asked in a quiet voice, her question directed at her daughter. The emotion in her voice was masked with a tone of indifference, but her expression was twisted into a frown of slight concern. Claire tensed again, and Jim swallowed back the growl trying to force itself out of his throat.
"We're still recovering," Claire explained quietly, shuffling close against Jim's back. He lacked his height and width in his human form, so he wasn't much use as far as cover went, but she felt more at ease, the closer she was to him. "I was in labor for nearly 48 hours, and I only gave birth four days ago. We've had a lot of disturbances since then, so everything's kind of much right now."
Ophelia's frown deepened and she gave Barbara a concerned look before directing her attention back to Claire. "Why don't you let Barbara look you ov—"
"No!" Claire said in a quick, but firm voice, and Jim felt her leaning heavily against his back. He widened his stance slightly to support her; despite her show of strength, she was weakening quickly, and he gripped her hand tighter, willing his strength into her along their bond. "I'm sorry; I don't mean to be rude, but I'm tired, and I don't want Ellie out of our nest any longer than necessary."
"Let's sit, then," Barbara said, gesturing to the set dining room table. Bowls and plates of food were spread across the bar that he hadn't noticed before, buffet style, and Jim gave a hesitant sniff. Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, corn, green beans, biscuits…
"KFC," Strickler whispered with a slight laugh as he passed Jim and Claire, noticing Jim's nervous hesitation regarding the food. Jim relaxed immediately, and then handed over his own dish to add to the lineup, chuckling as he heard Claire's stomach growl loudly.
"Missing fast food?" Jim smiled at his blushing mate, and she grinned back with a little bit of guilt.
"Maybe just a little."
"Here," Jim said, guiding her to a chair at the table that was closest to the curtained window. He angled the chair slightly, so that she was not sitting close to anyone except where he planned to sit next to her. As he helped her sit, she adjusted the sling holding their child to further hide the babe from view. "I'll make you a plate."
"Thank you, mi amor," Claire sighed, and he kissed her forehead, frowning as he noted that her skin was still chilled and clammy. He could both see and feel her relief at being able to sit, though she didn't allow herself to relax fully so long as they were in the company of a stranger and — specifically in the case of her mother — possibly hostile individuals.
Plates were fixed quickly and silently, and soon enough everyone was seated around the dining room table, which had been expanded to fit the extra guests. Strickler took the other seat next to Claire, opposite Jim, leaving a large enough space between her and him to appease Jim's protectiveness. Barbara was seated next to her boyfriend, Ophelia on her other side. Next was Javier, opposite his wife, and then between him and Jim sat the clearly uncomfortable Anson. Jim grabbed a biscuit to appease his mother's insistent concern over his reluctance to eat; he merely picked at it, passing the torn bits off to his mate, who was more than happy to eat it for him. Anson had taken a bit of Jim's venison dish, but nothing else.
"How much do these humans know?" Anson asked, nodding toward Javier and Ophelia.
"These humans," Ophelia began, her tone and expression offended. Jim groaned silently, and he and Claire shared an exasperated look. "…have names. Ophelia," she pronounced her name slowly as she gestured to herself, as if speaking to a child. She then gestured to her husband, and continued in the same slow tone. "…and Javier."
Anson rolled his eyes, an annoyed growl vibrating in his chest. Jim snarled slightly, silently declaring his protection over his in-laws. Anson ceased his growling immediately, automatically tilting his head to the side to expose his throat, showing that he meant no harm and recognized Jim as the more dominate troll. "Sorry… I've just never dealt with humans who have known as much about us as Strickler's mate, and now you two, I guess." He paused for a second, taking a ripping bite of the strip of venison on his fork, taking half the utensil with the chomp. He swallowed his food and glanced briefly at Claire and then averted his gaze submissively. "…and you, Lady Claire, though I was prepared for your knowledge."
"My parents know everything," Claire told Anson in a kind and soft voice, swallowing her spoonful of mashed potatoes. "You can tell us anything — they won't say a word."
Anson looked skeptical, but nodded. They were all silent for a minute, waiting as the Huldrekall gathered his thoughts. Finally, he shifted himself just enough so that his body was facing more toward Jim than anyone else. "First, you need to know that I was assigned to Usurna nearly three decades ago, when I was first released from the Darklands. I followed her obediently and without question for 15 years. We're divided by Dom and Sub; some Changelings are given ownership of themselves, such as Stricklander here — those are Doms. Then, there are those of us who were bought and sold, like slaves — we're Subs. It's ingrained in us through centuries of torture and conditioning to submit to our owners, to never question what we're told to do, or how we are to use our abilities. We exist to serve — nothing more."
Jim felt sick with this knowledge, and couldn't help but glance at his almost step-father anxiously. The older troll couldn't quite meet Jim's eyes as he nodded his confirmation of what Anson was telling him.
"Which one is Enrique? I mean, NotEnrique," Claire asked, correcting herself quickly when her parents shot her wide eyed and horrified looks. Jim could feel Claire's annoyance with the looks and gripped her hand under the table, squeezing lightly. Her adoptive brother had first been dubbed 'NotEnrique' as a form of spiteful bitterness, but once he had fallen in love with his new family — more specifically, his sister — and truly switched sides, they referred to him as 'Enrique.' It was the only name he had ever known, the only one he could actually claim as his own, even if it hadn't started that way. It was the name he wore when he had finally found acceptance and love.
"A Sub," Strickler said in a quiet voice, glancing nervously toward the Nuñez's. "Bular owned him, and he reported to me." Strickler grinned a little. "Clearly, we underestimated him."
"Underestimated…?" Ophelia asked in confusion, absently picking at the chicken on her plate.
"Without his help, Bular would have managed to bring Gunmar through from the Darklands much sooner than when he did," Strickler explained in a subdued and slightly guilty voice, obviously deciding not to mention his own hand in Bular's plans. To Jim, it didn't matter anymore — Strickler had more than redeemed himself since then, though he understood why the Changeling didn't want to bring it up. "Jim would have been defeated handily, if he had faced off against both Bular and Gunmar back then, Morgana would have been awakened without resistance from anyone, and she would have taken the world as hers… but don't tell the imp that I gave him that much credit."
Jim chuckled, shaking his head in mock seriousness. "No, of course not."
"He still stole our baby," Ophelia mumbled under her breath, glaring down at her food in bitterness.
Jim felt Claire's hand stiffen in his, under the table, and he squeezed it lightly in reassurance. He caught her eye with his and shook his head minutely, despite feeling the same anger that he could see and feel from his mate. Ophelia had no memory of disowning her daughter and more or less admitting that Claire's baby brother was the product of an affair. Jim couldn't imagine, given baby Enrique's distinctly un-Hispanic looks, that Javier didn't know this. Claire's father was a good man, and Jim was grateful that his mate took after her father, for the most part. She shared her mother's passion and ambition, but coupled with her father's compassionate and loving nature, it gave her the uncontested strength of character that he had fallen so headily for.
"Anyway," Anson interjected after a tense moment, and Jim looked back to the Huldrekall taking another quick and nervous bite of his food. The fork was gone completely now, as was the spoon that had been sitting on the table next to his plate. He licked the juice from his fingers before continuing. "During the time that I was under Usurna's rule, I acted as a spy, mostly. She hated the Surface Lands, but she used her Changelings to gather information to pass back to Bular and Gunmar. It was also during this time that they developed a little problem — low supply."
"Supply?" Jim echoed on a question, frowning. "Supply of what?"
"Changelings," Strickler explained, his voice slightly breathless. Jim looked toward his almost step-father to see that he was staring at Anson with wide, astonished eyes, as if he had just realized this information for himself. Catching Jim's curious look, Strickler's mouth twisted into an uncertain frown. "As you know, we Changelings were born as full trolls, stolen from our packs millennia ago, and then experimented on with Morgana's blood magics to give us the ability to traverse both the troll and human worlds. Since then, however, trolls became more cautious — whelps were sired less frequently and in lesser amounts. In the time before Changelings, it was not unusual for troll families to have several whelps in the nest at once."
"But after their children were stolen from them, they were afraid of the potential loss,"Anson took over the explanation, nodding firmly at his fellow Changeling. "Where a family might conceive every year or two before, afterward, they would refrain from adding to the nest until many decades had passed in between the whelps. On top of that, heavy warding magics were put into place to protect homes and Markets — thus making another raid for newborns almost impossible. Giving it a few decades for the magics to take root in all packs, the raids became truly impossible. Even with trolls like Usurna offering up her stock, as a Council Elder, she could only do so much without rousing suspicion. So, in all, only a few hundred babes were taken."
"And she wanted more slaves?" Jim guessed, his gut twisting with nausea. On the other side of the table Barbara had gasped and was cupping her hands over her mouth in horror. Jim looked back to Anson, frowning in a slight confusion as he thought through what the Huldrekall wasn't saying. "…but I can't imagine that she was the only buyer, and if there were only so many Changelings… then what?"
"A human male and a human female can create another human," Anson said in a carefully controlled tone of voice, his eyes averted to his half empty plate. "A troll male and troll female can create another troll. An elven male and an elven female can create another elf. And so on…"
"She wanted to breed Changelings?!" Claire gasped in horror, and then hurriedly removed her hand from Jim's to soothe Ellie, who had started to fuss as she reacted to her mother's distress. Jim shifted his body to briefly hide Claire from view of the others as he helped her turn her sling around, carefully keeping the baby tucked enough so that she would not catch sight of her father's now human and extremely foreign face. Claire maneuvered her clothing to offer her fuller breast to the baby, and she latched on weakly, suckling half-heartedly. Jim and Claire shared another worried look, but Anson interrupted the moment by continuing to speak, politely ignoring the intimate scene.
"Yes," Anson confirmed with a short, bitter laugh. "Like we were just dogs that she could pick and choose to create the perfect, little puppies. Had lineage papers and everything — it was disgusting. Anna had saliva so acidic that it could burn through solid titanium in less than five seconds; Reija could control the elements; Elya was the fastest; Grada was the strongest; Endor's blood would crystalize into a substance so strong that it would put diamonds to shame; and so on… pick a bit of that and a bit of this and that's how you get Changelings like Polymorphs."
"And you wouldn't follow her after that?" Jim questioned hesitantly, turning back as he took Claire's hand back in his to control the shaking in it.
"Tch," Anson scoffed, rolling his eyes in embarrassed disgust. His eyes softened when he met Jim's gaze, reading the horrified look on his face. Sighing, the Changeling ran a shaky hand through his blonde hair, tussling it anxiously. "You and I are unique, Trollhunter. Huldufólk have all but died out — we were already on the way out when the raids happened. I was the only one of my kind that they managed to take."
"But Jim was born human," Barbara said, confusion and skepticism in her voice. "I'm human, his father is human… Jim is only what he is now because of some spell Merlin cast."
Anson glanced at Jim and back to Barbara, a hesitant look on his face. "…magic — even magic cast by a powerful wizard like Merlin — can only emphasize what's already there. You or your former mate likely had one of the Huldufólk in your lineage way back when."
Jim and Barbara shared a stunned look across the table, and even Strickler looked sick to his stomach with shock.
"Okay, so you and Jim are rare, then," Ophelia said, clearly not liking the lack of control she had. "What makes that unique?"
"It's not so much that we're rare," Anson explained, averting his gaze from the woman's intense glare. "Huldufólk are unique because we can cross breed with any species — troll, human, elven, Changelings… even dragons, though that's kind of frowned upon."
"Probably dangerous too," Javier interjected with a light laugh, attempting to break the tension with a bit of humor. Jim chuckled, shaking his head and gave his father-in-law a bemused smile.
"Well, there is that," Anson replied, a grin twitching at the corner of his mouth. Looking back to Jim, he continued in a lighter tone. "But she wanted to use me as a stud — to create Changelings from all kinds of different beings, not just trolls."
"That's awful!" Barbara exclaimed, her voice choked and thick with emotion.
Anson shrugged, but nodded. "Most of us never questioned it; remember, we were tortured and conditioned for centuries to follow our master's every command. I was nervous and hesitant, but I was too afraid to question her — until she paired me with a young, human girl as my first breed. She must have been 13 or so… but it wasn't her age that dissuaded me. She was…" Anson frowned and brought his arm up to rub nervously at his opposite shoulder. "…possessed by something."
"They drugged her?" Barbara exclaimed, and Jim felt like he was going to throw up, both his own disgust and Claire's swamping him.
"No," Anson shook his head. "She was possessed. You could see it literally oozing out of her every pore. Her eyes were pure black, and she was surrounded by black mist, and when she spoke, it was like there were a thousand voices were trying to escape at once. I knew at once that the girl's soul was gone, that she wasn't the one in that body anymore. If I wasn't scared enough before, this broke me — whatever was in her was pure evil. Usurna never expected her obedient, little slave boy to rebel, so I wasn't locked in with that thing. I ran. It gave chase, but the human body was too weak and slow to keep up. I ran and ran and didn't stop for days, not until I was in the thick of the Amazon Jungle. Jungle creatures are reclusive and keep to themselves unless directly threatened, so no one cared if a lone Changeling roamed through their territories, but if any kind of hunting party went in, they fought back harshly. Usurna only risked three groups coming after me — when the third never returned, I guess she gave up. Figured I wasn't worth the effort."
"And you've been there all this time?" Claire asked, sitting back in her chair as she gently rocked the baby back and forth as she nursed. Jim didn't miss the intensely curious stare that Ophelia was watching her daughter with, and it made them both uncomfortable, though he and Claire ignored it for the time being.
Anson shook his head, his mouth twisting in a combination of anger and sorrow. "Only for a short while. Usurna never found me, but she wasn't going to let me go without punishment. She got word of my betrayal back to Bular and Gunmar… as retribution, they killed my familiar."
"Dios mío!" Javier exclaimed breathlessly, his expression sick.
"No, they…" Strickler said, clearly shocked by this previously unknown information. "…the babes were supposed to be safe under any circumstance."
Anson snorted, rolling his eyes. "And who told you that? Bular? A familiar's soul can only be bound once… if the Changeling it's bound to is no longer of any use, then why keep the familiar?"
Jim shook his head, bile rising up his throat in sick horror. "What abut Changelings who are killed or die? What… what happens to their familiars?"
"Familiars are kept as infants, their own souls too weak to resist the magic binding them to their Changeling counterpart," Anson replied in a subdued tone, staring down at the table in deep concentration. "A Changeling is strong enough to survive half of his or her soul being ripped away, but a human infant? The poor thing would die in the worst ago—"
Jim pushed away from the table, a harsh roaring in his ears, his stomach turning. Without warning, he stood and ran into the kitchen and out the backdoor that lead to the yard. He ripped the mask from his face and tossed it away from himself, heaving what little he had in his stomach into his mother's shrubbery, his hands braced on his wobbling knees.
"Mi amor…?"
Jim heaved again, grateful to feel Claire's warm hand gently rubbing his back, but unable to respond. The cool winter air — nowhere near as cold as New Jersey — bit lightly at his tear stained face, his whole body convulsing as he continued to spit up mostly bile. Tucked in her sling against Claire's chest, Ellie began to cry, sensing her parents' distress, and Claire struggled to comfort the infant and Jim at the same time.
"Sorry," Jim gasped breathlessly, once his stomach had settled. He still felt sick, but there was nothing left for him to throw up. He lowered himself shakily to his knees in the grass, cradling his head in his hands. "I'm so sorry."
"No, Jim…" Claire sighed, attempting to kneel by his side. She wobbled a little on the way down, and Jim wrapped his arm around her automatically, both to make sure she didn't fall, but to also hug her close. Ellie cried heavily between them as he pulled Claire into both of his arms, crushing her gently to his chest and burying his face into her neck. "You have nothing to be sorry for."
Jim shook his head into the crook of her neck, tilting his head enough that he could see Ellie's face peeking out from the cover of her sling. A pang of guilt went through him as he saw his daughter's pale skin and wet cheeks, remnants of her dinner crusted around her mouth and on Claire's exposed nipple. Jim could see the milk still beading up from his mate's breast, and it made his gut twist with a new level of guilt.
"I've killed Changelings before…" Jim whispered in a hoarse and choked voice, squeezing his eyes shut as a few more tears escaped. "I never thought about… it never occurred to me…"
"I apologize, Trollhunter."
Jim looked up to see Anson standing on the back step, his stance open and vulnerable to signify that he meant no harm. He was looking at them with pain and guilt in his expression, but Jim thought he could also see a hint of curiosity in the Huldrekall's gaze. It wasn't directed toward Claire, but toward Jim.
"No, I…" Jim began, sitting back on his calves and rubbing his tears away with the back of his hand, absently pulling the baby's sling a little higher to shield Ellie and Claire's breast from view. She had yet to cover her chest, leaving her breast out for the infant to nurse when she wanted to. "I'm sorry, Anson. Like I said before, we shouldn't really be out of our nest yet, and I… well, I didn't know about…"
"That's another thing that makes you unique," Anson said, his ear flicking lightly back to follow the muffled sounds of conversation from within the house. Jim barely heard the chatter, too absorbed in his immediate surroundings to bother concentrating on the others inside the house. Claire leaned into his chest, nuzzling his neck in a comforting manner, and Ellie's cries quieted to whimpers and sniffles as she was pressed between the warm chests of her parents. Anson sat himself down on the stoop and reached into his pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes. He took one out, flipping it between his fingers, seeming to contemplate the object for a few seconds before putting it to the corner of his mouth. He spoke around the stick as he pulled a lighter from the opposite pocket. "It's why I wanted to meet you in person."
"And what's that?" Claire asked, pressing herself closer to Jim in an attempt to further shield the baby attached to her chest from the cigarette smoke that the Changeling started breathing in and puffing out. The light breeze was blowing away from them, however, and Jim noticed that Anson shifted himself lightly every time the wind changed even a little, careful to make sure that the smoke never blew in their direction.
"You don't hold prejudices," Anson said in a quiet voice, taking in a deep drag from his cigarette. He held the smoke in his lungs for a few seconds, his eyes closed as if her were savoring the sensation, and then he let it out on a slow, long exhale. "Trolls hate us. They call us Impure — they've forgotten that we were once one of them, or maybe they just don't care. We're too… dirty for them. Even Trollhunters of the past only viewed us as enemies, never considering our familiars when hunting us. They were obligated to protect the humans, but for them, troll safety came first. You, however, are different."
"Because I'm both?" Jim asked in a deadpan voice.
"No," Anson protested, shaking his head. Something about the movement caused him to inhale too deeply, and he gave a few wheezing coughs. Jim moved to stand, his arm outstretched toward Anson in an attempt to help, but the other troll held up the hand that was holding the cigarette in between his index and middle fingers and punched his own chest with his other hand. After another hacking cough, he spit a glob of mucus to the side, and then went right back to puffing on his cancer stick. He saw the disapproving look on Jim's and Claire's faces, and laughed. "Sorry. Bad habit that I picked up in the '80s. Haven't been able to shake it. Anyway, it's not because of what Merlin's made you into. It's because you see every innocent as under your protection — every single one, no matter their species, even before your transformation. We heard the stories."
"We?" Jim questioned, furrowing his brow in confusion.
Anson nodded, taking another drag on the slowly dwindling cigarette. The embers flared and floated off into the breeze as he flicked the ashes away with a light tapping motion. "Others like me — those of us who rebelled. We formed our own little Rogue One group, if you will." Anson grinned fondly at the comparison, snickering a little. "We've spent the last twelve years infiltrating ourselves into key positions within Gunmar sympathizing packs and the Janus Order, gathering information and preparing for the coming war. Many of us had been Subs who rebelled against our masters, and many of us have lost our familiars. A fair few, however, have retained their positions and reputations, but are double agents for us. No one was going to defend us, so we've been planning to fight for ourselves, not just for defense, but for our very freedom."
"How do you know Strickler, then?" Claire asked in a soft voice, absently nuzzling Jim's neck again. "He was working with Bular up until—"
"When you showed him mercy," Anson interrupted, nodding as his eyes slipped between Jim and Claire. "He'd never experienced it before. Just like all of us, in the beginning, he knew nothing of compassion or mercy. He thought the prejudices were too deep — that the only way to rectify anything was to gain control. If that happened to be under the heel of a monster like Gunmar, then so be it." He took a last drag on his cigarette before dropping the leftover stub to the ground and crushing it beneath his shoe. "But you changed that. You showed him that there was another way… but now he was lost, nowhere to go, so he contacted someone who knew someone who knew someone who knew one of us. We put him through the wringer," Anson chuckled with a mischievous expression. "He had to prove himself to us, before we were willing to trust him; but he was determined and adamant. He's been a trusted ally ever since."
"Okay…" Jim breathed, sitting back on his calves again, his head aching as he tried to process what he was being told. "Thank you… for helping him. I'm glad he wasn't all alone during that time. What… what has all of this got to do with what's happening now? What is behind all of this?"
Anson smirked, nodding his head. "You've gathered that this is something much deeper than a fight over different ideologies, then. Good. You'll need that intuition, because I can give you information, but I honestly have no idea what to do about it — what could ever possibly be done about it."
"Then why tell us?" Claire asked in an exasperated and pained voice. Jim braced her as she started to lean her weight into him, resting her head on his shoulder tiredly. "If there's nothing we can do?"
"Your mate — and you — have proven us wrong before," the Huldrekall said, his smirk turning into a fond smile as he watched their interaction with each other. "If anyone can do something, it's you lot. Remember the girl I was telling you about?"
"The possessed one?" Jim asked, avoiding the topic of breeding, the very thought churning his stomach all over again.
"Yeah," Anson nodded, resting his forearms on his knees and pressing his face tiredly into his hands. His voice was slightly muffled as he continued speaking. "I know what it is now — that darkness that had taken her. They call it Draknagoth."
Jim felt a shock go through him at the familiarity of the name, knowing he had heard it somewhere before, but not able to place it. Looking to his mate, he hoped that she would recall where they had heard it before, but she was watching him, her expression curious, but showing no recognition. "Jim, what is it?"
"I've heard that name before…" Jim replied, frowning as he rifled through his memory, trying to place it.
"Well, it sounds a lot like 'Nyarlagroth,'" Claire hummed to herself, and then winced a little, shifting the baby closer to her chest. Jim heard the sounds of Ellie suckling again. "Maybe that's what you're thinking of?"
"No…" Jim shook his head, baring his teeth in frustration. "I've heard that name before. God, I can't remember…"
"Well, whatever it is, it's something that's been trying to make a claim in this world for a long time," Anson said, shrugging slightly as he looked back up from his hands. "I'd wager that it's been biding its time for centuries. Usurna thinks she's using it, like an untapped power of some kind, but there's no doubt that it is using her."
"You've got spies with her pack?" Claire asked, her body quickly losing the strength that she had gathered back during dinner. Nursing made her tired in general, but she was usually resting while she did it. Jim tightened his arms around her and moved to sit on his backside in the grass, pulling his mate and daughter into his lap as he did so.
Anson politely averted his eyes as they adjusted themselves, continuing with his explanation with a nod. "Just one. She's got to be careful when passing along information, so as not to expose herself. It's too much of a risk to give us their location right now, but we know that they're somewhere along the East Coast, or possibly Appalachia."
Jim nodded, absently pressing a kiss to his wife's clammy forehead. "…is it possible that this… thing originates from the Shadow Realm?"
"It wouldn't surprise me," Anson replied with another shrug. "I've never heard of anything like this from the Living Realm. I don't know how it would have crossed over, though. I don't think it was here in Morgana's time, but it has been here longer than your own access to the Shadow Realm. There are times when the walls between realms are weakened, so that's a possibility."
"There is?" Claire asked in surprise, tilting her head up slightly on Jim's shoulder to better look at Anson. "Like when?"
"It's rare," the Huldrekall explained, his eyes drifting skyward in thought. "Moon anomalies, mostly — lunar eclipses, blue moons, blood moons especially, but those are—"
"Toby!" Jim exclaimed, his whole body jolting as the memory came crashing down on him. Claire and Anson jumped in surprise, and Ellie let go of her mother's breast to cry again.
"Shh, shh…" Claire tried to soothe the baby, giving Jim a harsh glare. He pressed another kiss to her cheek in brief apology before directing his attention back to Anson.
"I have heard that name before," Jim said to the Changeling's raised eyebrow expression. "Our best friend, Toby — he drank a whole bottle of Elixlore once and scarfed down Blinky's entire library. He was spouting off a bunch of stuff that I didn't understand, but he said something about blood moons and the rising of something called the 'Draknagoth.' And a couple of months ago, I met a dragon who said that a darkness was coming that needed to be defeated before the next blood moon, in three years."
"Does your friend still have this book?" Anson perked up, leaning forward eagerly. "Does he remember what all it said?"
"He didn't remember much after the potion wore off," Jim admitted with a slight frown. "Blinky managed to save a lot of his books, but not all of them, and I don't know which book it was from. All we can do is research, at this point. Hopefully, Blink still has the book, but we've got a lot of reading ahead of us."
"Merlin might know something too," Claire said, rocking the baby in her arms gently. She was whining and whimpering, but had stopped crying again. "He can see glimpses of the future."
"He expected me to be a 30 year-old," Jim laughed lightly, scrunching his nose up in amusement. "His predictions aren't always the most accurate."
"Something is better than nothing," Claire replied, biting her lip nervously. "If we—"
CRASH!
All three of them jumped and Ellie started screaming her head off at the loud sound of breaking glass coming from inside the house. Barely a second later, the sounds of two female voices yelling at each other rang clearly from inside. Anson was the first one inside, Jim and Claire pulling themselves to their feet and stumbling in after him. The scene that met them was one for the books: Barbara and Ophelia were on opposite sides of the room, pointing and shouting at each other while their partners were physically holding them back. Javier, in particular, seemed to be struggling to keep Ophelia from hurling herself at Jim's mother. When they burst back into the house, the baby's cries loud and panicked, the others looked up, startled. The sight of Jim, without the Glamour Mask and now in his troll form, seemed to further agitate Ophelia and when her eyes shot to Claire, who was trying desperately to soothe the screaming infant, she became infuriated.
"He's completely ruined her life!"
"Having a baby isn't—"
"They're teenagers!"
"They're in love, Ophelia!"
"Oh, and what would you know about love, Barbara?! Your first husband—"
"Don't you dare—"
"STOP IT!"
Magic flared through the room, so strong that it created a visible haze in the air. Pillows on the sofa, plates from the table, the food on the bar, books from the bookshelf all started floating in the air. Around her, Claire's hair blew around her face, her eyes starting to turn black. Anson, seeing the seeping blackness, jerked back in surprise.
"What the—"
"I have had it!" Claire exclaimed, tears beginning to course down her cheeks. Jim tried to calm her through their bond, but between what he had just been told from Anson, the drama unfolding before them, and the sickly, panicked cried of his daughter, he was just as frazzled as his mate.
"Claire—" Ophelia began, gasping against the force of the magic surrounding them.
"No!" Claire screamed, stamping her foot. She wobbled slightly, her magic faltering, and the objects in the air began to fall to the floor randomly.
"Claire," Jim gasped, grateful when her remaining magic didn't push him away, but seemed to pull him closer as he tugged his mate into arms. She was rigid, her shoulders squared, and while she allowed him to embrace her, she gently pushed him away after a moment of gathering herself together. Lifting her sling over her head, her shirt falling to cover her chest before she was exposed to the others, she pressed the distraught baby into Jim's arms. He took her, cuddling her close to his chest and offered her a finger to gum on. She whimpered and sniffled, but grasped on to his index finger in her little fists, gumming and sucking on the appendage anxiously.
"Mom," Claire said, turning to her mother, the blackness fading from her eyes as she allowed her magic to dissipate. She was calm now, confident and determined. "Why are you being like this? You can accept it or deny it, but this is my life now, and it has no bearing on you, unless you want it to. Yes, I want my babies to know their grandparents, but if you choose to exclude yourself from our lives and theirs, then I won't blame you for that. Why did you come here tonight?"
"I…" Ophelia said in a soft voice, tears welling in her brown eyes. "Barbara said that you had the… that you went into labor early. I… I was worried about you. And now I've seen you, and you look miserable."
"I am miserable," Claire replied, more tears spilling over. "I'm tired, and I hurt, and my head is pounding like crazy, and I'm pretty sure I'm going to puke. My baby is scared, and tired, and out of the nest way too soon, and I want to get her home before she becomes any weaker than she already is. And on top of all of that, now you're starting on this? Mom, if you cared about me at all, please just let this go — let me go."
"You're my baby," Ophelia whimpered in a choked voice. Ellie let out a short, gasping cry and Jim hugged her tighter to his chest. Claire's mother looked to him, and her eyes hardened again. "And he ruined your life!"
"Jim is my life!" Claire exclaimed, her voice catching in emotion. "You act like he stole me away, when you know that's not what happened! You know he was never going to ask me to leave with him, that he thought to ask me would be selfish. I told you that where he goes, I go. What did you think was going to happen when a woman and a man, who are in love, go off to live together? Did you think we were just going to be friends on a road trip?"
"You're not a woman!" Ophelia exclaimed, stomping her own foot, her arms rigid at her sides, hands balled into fists. "You're just a little girl!"
"Mom…" Claire sighed, shaking her head. "Maybe under normal circumstances, in a world without magic, I would still be a child — but that's not the case, and I don't want it to be. I love Jim, I love our baby, and I love our life as it is now. I don't want anything to have been — or ever be — different."
"You're too young," Ophelia protested again, shaking her head in frustration. "And people already think—"
"And you seem to be the only one who cares what they think!" Claire snapped, finally losing her temper. She her foot again, like her mother had, her face flushing red. A second later, her face paled and Jim felt the sudden dampening of his mate's emotions, an impression of pain and nausea filling the void. Claire wobbled on her feet again, a hand coming up to press against the side of her head, grimacing in discomfort.
"Claire, honey," Barbara said with a frown of concern, stepping forward with her arms outstretched. Claire saw the movement and backed away, leaning heavily against Jim's arm, her head resting against his shoulder tiredly. "Honey, you don't look so good. Let me—"
"I want to go home," Claire declared in a firm voice, opening her pained eyes to look up at Jim pleadingly. He felt his heart twist, a sudden feeling of uncertainty crashing down on him. "I want to go home now."
"Maybe you should let—" Jim started, his worry for his mate's health overpowering his own desire to give in to her request.
"Now," Claire repeated in a hard tone, but then she whimpered, whining in the back of her throat in a tone that she knew Jim would give in to. "Please…"
Jim nodded, pulling his hand away from Ellie's mouth (to which she began crying in earnest) and reaching around his wife to pull the charm from her opposite pocket. He briefly glanced up to Strickler and then Anson, both of whom wore understanding expressions. Strickler gave a short nod, mouthing 'I'll call you,' and then Jim squeezed the charm in his palm, willing the magic to activate. In a harsh flash of blue light, the magic burst; when it cleared again, they were standing back in the warm sanctity of their own bedroom.
Immediately, Claire clapped her hands to her mouth and stumbled forward to grab the wash basin on her dresser. Jim cringed as she retched, throwing up the food she had eaten only an hour before. He bounced Ellie gently in the crook of his arm, trying to soothe her crying, while he followed after his wife and rubbed her back with his free hand.
"Claire… mi amor…" Jim whimpered as Claire tried to catch her breath after her sick spell, her hands braced on either side of the dresser's top, her arms trembling. When lit was clear that she wasn't going to bring anything else up, Jim guided his mate over to the bed and sat her down. Shakily, Claire tore her clothes off and then backed into the bed, taking the side closest to the wall, where a chunk of Heartstone flowed along a seam in the rock. As she pressed her back against the wall, the amber rock pulsed with warm life, and she sighed in relief.
"Ellie…" Claire sighed, blinking tiredly. She held her arms out for the crying infant and Jim pressed that baby into her mother's loving arms.
As Claire situated Ellie into her embrace, Jim pulled off his own clothes and then slid into the bed with his mate and daughter. They curled together around the baby, encasing her in the warm protection of their bodies. Instinctively, Jim leant down to clean his daughter's face, licking away her tears and the dried milk at the corners of her mouth. Pulling away from the baby slightly, he tilted his head enough to lap at his mate's nipples, cleaning away the dried milk there too. Claire was obviously too tired to react to his actions — not that he had meant them in a sexual way. She was weak, her skin cold and clammy, and Jim gave a whine of concern. She did respond to that, automatically making a noise of false assurance in response. Jim could feel how tired she was, even with the Heartstone's magic bolstering her. Between them, Ellie gave weak, coughing cries. Snuffling against Claire's breast, Jim took a nipple into his mouth, suckling just enough to draw a little bit of milk into his mouth, and then pulled away when the liquid began beading up on its own. Turning Ellie slightly, he pressed her mouth to the nipple and she latched on, suckling weakly at first and then harder as she calmed. Claire's body was trembling and sweaty, her breathing heavy, and her skin so pale that her freckles stood out harshly. Jim pressed his mouth to his wife's parted lips, kissing her deeply while passing the milk that he'd held onto in his mouth into hers. He had no idea why he felt like this was something she needed — he could only figure that his instincts knew more than what his mind did. If the nutrients in the milk could keep the baby healthy, then why would it not have the same benefit to Claire herself? Claire made a noise of surprise, but kissed him back after a moment, swallowing the milk gratefully.
"Sorry," Jim murmured as he pulled back, resting his forehead against hers. "I don't know why…"
"No," she protested in a whisper, bring her hand up to caress his cheek. "Thank you."
Jim tightened his arms around his little family, pressing soft kisses to his mate's face and lips. "I love you… so much."
"I love you too," Claire replied, her skin starting to warm. A smile pulled at the corner of her mouth as she pressed another soft kiss to his lips. "Ellie and I are not leaving this nest for another two months, under any circumstance. Do you understand me?"
Jim laughed lightly, but nodded, recognizing the underlying seriousness in her tone. "Three months."
Claire laughed and sobbed at the same time, pressing her mouth back to his in a desperate kiss.
To be continued...
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